


Geminos, Daemonium Principe

by HailSam



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Twins, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Arranged Marriage, Demon Summoning, Demons, Fontcest, Incest, M/M, Multi, Twincest, UF fontcest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HailSam/pseuds/HailSam
Summary: Poppl and Drune, a blessed pair of twins to the great Kingdom Louln. But tragedy looms for the two, as once their birthday comes, their fates-ever intertwined-have been set into motion.Poppl is set for marriage for unity of the kingdom, while Drune has the title of King looming above him. The two are slated to be separated, but of course neither wants that to happen.Poppl decides to make a deal with the Devil...
Relationships: Papyrus/Sans (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus/Underfell Sans
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	Geminos, Daemonium Principe

**Author's Note:**

> Poppl-Underfell Red  
> Drune-Underfell Papyrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins' beginning and end...
> 
> ...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.identifont.com/show?U3
> 
> The Poppl font, for your imagining UwU

His name is Poppl Exquisit. His twin’s name is Drune.

They are the only heirs to the throne of the grand kingdom called Louln. Louln is a kingdom set near a large forest to which they shared with their neighbor, called Applios. They were, at one time, in a great war that lasted centuries. It wasn’t until just a few years before the twins’ birth that things had settled down, the Kings coming to an agreement.

Both boys are skeleton monsters. Poppl is short and squat, his skull squished down and red eye lights that flickered back and forth when watching someone. He was a sickly boy, always tucked up into bed with different poultices of all sorts laid upon his burning forehead. As such, he couldn’t play like other children, but he and his brother found ways.

Drune was, for a time, just a little bit smaller than Poppl. His skull was elongated, sharp teeth that they both shared. When they hit five years of age, he shot up like a tomato plant, gangly and his body too large for him to really maneuver steadily. Drune was healthy as a stallion and a grand swordmaster, but he refused to do anything-anything at all-without his precious twin nearby.

Their mother was...cold to them. She let the nannies tend to them, only appearing during parties or when she wanted to scold them. Other than that, out of sight, out of mind. Rather, they found themselves attached to Miss Rosie, a mouse monster, grey of fur, who had taken utmost care of them over the years.

Miss Rosie was beloved by them, and in return, she would find them sweets or get some nice toys for them.

It wasn’t about toys or sweets, no matter what their father thought. It was about the connection.

Their father tended to show his ‘love’ by pouring material goods into their nursery. All they really wanted was for him to come by. But alas.

They spend their days either in the nursery, Poppl wheezing and suffering through another bout of illness, or racing about the gardens splashing the pool and reaching for apples on the tall tree that grew with bricks surrounding the base.

As they grew older, they were...separated, but only by room.

Poppl was ‘different’, his destiny was not meant to inherit. Rather, that courtesy was meant for Drune, who was for all intents and purposes, the ‘elder’ of the two. They were educated in different ways, and attended some meeting or another over time.

But at night, they would sneak from their rooms to slip into the other’s, a tiny lamp lighting their way, both of them giggling and perhaps reading or just talking about their day, before falling asleep in moments.

Miss Rosie was the only one to know.

When they both turned 17, the worst news came about, setting into motion a series of events that, perhaps, only one of them saw coming…

~~

“BUT-BUT THAT’S NOT FAIR!”

Poppl sighed, a hand rubbing at his own cheek with a frown as his dear brother stomped around in what used to be their old nursery. Poppl had, more and more lately, been sent to bed with some illness or another, and had just been recovering when Father had let loose the bombshell.

Poppl and his intended had become of age, and he would soon leave to...wherever this other fellow was.

“I’m sorry, dear brother,” he sighed again, plopping his hand onto the blanket in his lap. “But we’ve always known. The second is to wed, remember?”

“NO,” Drune grumbled, still stomping fiercely before finally deflating, shuffling over to the chair that he had spent countless days in, reading books to his dear brother or napping alongside him. “...YES. BUT IF I SAY THAT, THEN IT MEANS ACKNOWLEDGING THAT YOU’RE LEAVING. AND I DON’T WANT YOU TO LEAVE!”

“Neither do I,” Poppl agreed, holding a small hand out. Drune took his hand easily, still pouting, and it made Poppl wonder who really was the ‘elder’ amongst the two of them. “But it’s always been my future, just as much as King has been yours.”

“I DON’T WANT TO DO THAT EITHER,” he moped, plopping his head on Poppl’s blanket and Poppl laughed, patting his head with a sigh. His poor tender brother, soft for everyone, even a little spider, tears welling in his eyes when a guard would shoo a cat or they would be scolded. Being a King-or at least, a king like their father-would crush him.

No, Poppl had to figure this out. For now, he patted Drune’s head easily. “I have a plan, don’t you worry. For now, worry not. You were telling me about your match with Sir Rocker today.”

Drune perked up, happily chattering about his magnificent fencing duel with his instructor, and Poppl lost himself into the soft sway of words, letting him believe for a moment that their time together was never-ending.

~~

There’s a legend told through the Kingdom.

In one’s darkest time, when there is no other to turn to, all one has to do is avail themselves-and a small gift-to the Heavens, and their answer will be provided. The tale continues that, in the past, it had been a fierce Demon, horrifying and short-tempered. However, this land was his domain, and he reluctantly would assist.

It was a very old legend, as they had grown far past offering up sacrifices in exchange for safety, and the fact that the end of the legend states that the Demon had gone missing. 

Missing, dead, what have you.

Either way, when someone tried to do the little ritual, no one showed up, and their kingdom was at a loss...until Poppl and Drune’s great-great x 12 grandfather took the reigns.

While that was still so long ago, the citizens had created a little...garden for the one who had kept them safe for a while. Several benches, a statue with moss growing over it.

(No one could recall what the Demon looked like, not anymore.)

Poppl didn’t care. This was one of his last shots. He had many other ideas in mind, even pretending to be seriously ill the day of, but this...this had to work.

It was late at night, and he had snuck out, far away from his dear brother and the guards. He’d made sure Drune was sleeping soundly before creeping down the hall, clothed only in a soft gown and a lantern dangling from his fingers.

He wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to choose this route. Urgency? Anxiousness? Perhaps curiosity out of all choices...but, well.

He’d rather exhaust the biggest one first.

On a bench he laid the lantern, tugging a small cloth bag from his sleeve. There was a stone ‘flowerpot’ at the base of the statue, the flowers in it long since dead and swept away by the elements, leaving only a pot of earth inside.

He pulled a few copper coins free of the bag, one large gold coin, and a slice of a pastry from earlier. Gods loved money and food, surely Demons did as well? 

Along with that, he had taken a ribbon that had tied one of the scrolls from his intended, just in case he had to use something that pertained to his request.

His shaky hands laid out the items on top of the cloth bag inside the flowerpot. He took a few short breaths, feeling an ache bloom between his ribs. After this, he truly would be bedridden for a while, but that took care of his next step, certainly. He shook out some matches from where he had sewn them into the hem of his gown. The Head Maid should’ve never taught him to sew. He was always hiding things here and there!

With a soft laugh, he straightened up, holding a match tightly as he cleared his throat.

“O Nameless Deity,” he murmured to the night sky, stars watching him in interest from high above, his hands clasped together, “Perhaps the tales are true and you no longer answer our call. But I beseech you, please. I am promised in marriage to a neighboring King, someone I do not know nor care to know. I will have to move far away, leaving behind my brother, whose side I have stayed by these countless years.”

The wind started to pick up, a few leaves scattering from a tree nearby. Some birds settled on a branch, watching him, their eyes bright and shiny as he continued his plea.

“I beseech thee, for whatever may come, that perhaps I might stay by my brother’s side.” His throat ached, the chill of the wind seeping into his bones. “I know we both have our duties, perhaps it is selfish of me. But…” he gripped the match tighter, his eye sockets narrowing. “I...care for him. Deeply. And I’m afraid of what may happen.”

Would the Demon understand? Understand the deep feelings that even Poppl had a difficult time coming to understand? Those feelings that flourished over the years, the ugly heart-wrenching feeling that came about when a princess had tenderly sent him a love note, that warm feeling when Drune would smile at him or comfort him during an illness?

Perhaps that was, indeed, selfish. Drune did not have the same feelings for him. It wasn’t done here, albeit he had heard of other Kingdoms who would promise children within the family. Cousins to cousins, so on.

But that just wasn’t their fate to be had.

~~but what if it was?~~

“I offer these, to you, in hopes of granting my request.”

He struck the match against pot, shakily letting the cloth bag catch. It crackled as the flames ate up what used to be beautiful flowers, surrounding the coins and burning the pastry in moments. The ribbon curled into itself, like a flinching snake. For a little while, the wind blew around him, the flame flickering brightly and causing shadows to dance across the statue. The birds chirped at him, but all he could do was stare down at the paltry offering as it burned.

He sighed, hanging his head and covering his face with his hands. “I should have known. This was foolish of me. Drune is the type to believe these legends...why did I think I would…?”

Something clinked, and he looked up sharply, blinking away a tear that had threatened to appear. The coins inside the flowerpot clinked together, like a pair of energetic dancers, spinning around and around in place as he watched, shocked. The large golden coin flipped up into the air, and shone so brightly he had to cover his eye sockets once more with a wince.

Eventually, the light faded, and he lowered his arm.

“...P-POPPL…?”

Drune.

Drune stood before Poppl, the flowerpot now broken and scattered around them, the coins melted in a pile below Drune’s feet. 

This was not his brother.

This could not BE his brother.

This...being had Drune’s face, but only half of it. One half of the skull that Poppl had known for years, for a decade even.

The other half…

It was inky black, a horn shaped from it like clay, curved up and tilted slightly. The eye on that side was a bright glittering red, wide open and staring, with just as jagged teeth as they normally had. Rather than bones covered by their usual covering, that half of the body was an inky mess. It blended with the night, the fire that was dying down not able to pierce it, creating a terrifying outline against the night sky.

An inky hand rose up and Poppl flinched back, the being pausing for a moment.

“...POPPL? WHAT...WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire beautiful idea is brought to you by an ad on Instagram that showed an interesting idea at first, and then reading comments, revealed a great plot twist that honestly left me shooketh. I can't recall the comic sadly, I think it was one of those Taptoons type of things.
> 
> So yeah let's Undertale it up.


End file.
